


Rules of Imladris

by fingonsradharp



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elrond misses his dads, Gen, Kidnap Dads, Misadventures, One Shot Collection, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Rivendell | Imladris, Slightly Eldritch Peredhil, imladris fam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingonsradharp/pseuds/fingonsradharp
Summary: A collection of short ficlets and one-shots set in Third-Age Rivendell, in which the rules of the valley are established.
Relationships: Arwen Undómiel & Celebrían, Arwen Undómiel & Elrond Peredhel, Celebrían/Elrond Peredhel, Elladan & Elrohir & Glorfindel, Elladan & Elrohir (Tolkien), Elrond Peredhel & Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 37
Kudos: 83





	1. Rule #1: No Oaths

“Do you truly miss them?” Celebrían asked, leaning her head against Elrond’s chest. 

His arms were around her, one hand resting on her swollen belly. “Yes, I do,” he said softly. “I—well, perhaps I should not. Everyone has always told us that we should renounce them, as if our minds had been turned.” He almost laughed. “Even they told us that. But we…”

“You loved them,” she said. “They were kind to you, though they were cruel to others, and so you feel conflicted.”

“They were not cruel,” Elrond said. “They loathed themselves for the actions forced upon them by the Oath. Sometimes it—it was as if they could not control themselves, and afterwards they were wracked with guilt.”

Celebrían was quiet for a long time. “Do you think they’re still alive?”

Elrond swallowed. “Maedhros is—is dead. But there’s rumors of a singing ghost wandering the lands, and every description I’ve heard matches Maglor.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “He promised us that he would see us again. I don’t understand why he wouldn’t come back.”

_ Unless he lied, _ his mind whispered.  _ Unless he never cared for you and Elros beyond your value as hostages, and he truly is the  _ nér  _ everyone thinks he is. _

Celebrían placed a soft kiss to his temple. “Whatever it is, it isn’t your fault. Sometimes you cannot keep all the promises you make.”

He closed his eyes so that he would not cry. “If I learned anything from them, it was that.”


	2. Rule #2: Don’t Go Out Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medlin is big and stronk and full of love. He is a gigantic intimidating himbo elf, and i love him!

Elrohir looked at the outside world with wide eyes. “It looks so…”

“Big,” Elladan finished. “How much trouble do you think we’ll be in when we get caught?”

“ _If_ we get caught,” Elrohir said confidently. “And we’re just finding gaps in the security. The guards should change their rotation more often, this was way too easy.”

“Do you think if we tell Glorfindel he’ll let us start training with him?”

Elrohir’s face lit up. “I hope so!” he pushed himself over a fallen tree trunk that was almost as thick as he was tall. 

The forest was dark, the treetops completely obscuring the sun above. Elladan held out one hand, and his palm filled with white light. 

Elrohir shivered. “I’m not sure if I like this place,” he said. “It’s scary.”

“No it’s not,” Elladan said, rolling his eyes. “This is Arnor. Our cousins are here, remember?”

“No one’s gonna live _here_ ,” Elrohir said, pulling his twin to the side before he tripped over a tree root. “I don’t like the way the trees feel.”

“Don’t be such a coward.”

Elrohir scowled. “There’s something here.”

“ _Two_ somethings.”

“One good, one bad,” they said together. 

Elrohir grabbed his brother’s hand. “Maybe we should go back.”

A rumbling noise rippled through the wood, followed by a crash, and a giant troll burst through the trees. 

Elladan and Elrohir scrambled backwards, tripping over roots and plants until they fell over. 

The Troll’s voice boomed, low and terrible. “Hello, elflings! What’re yeh doin’ so deep in my woods?”

“What do we do?” came Elrohir’s terrified whisper. 

“Hide!” Elladan hissed. “Disappear!” He reached deep inside himself, grasping at the scraps of energy laced through his _fae_ , and willed himself to become darker, until to anyone else, he was just a wisp of shadow. 

_I can’t do it!_ Elrohir cried silently. _I can’t focus!_

He was still on the ground, completely visible, staring at the giant with round eyes. 

The Troll looked around, swiveling his head from side to side in search of Elladan. “Where’d the other one go?” His hand shot out with shocking speed and grabbed Elrohir in his fist. He shouted and struggled, but could do nothing in the face of the huge monster. “Why, you’re nuthin’ more than a snack,” he said miserably. 

The treetops above Elladan rustled, and he startled out of his invisibility, stumbling away from the noise… and into the Troll’s line of sight. 

The Troll let out a bellow of triumph and strode towards him. There was no way Elladan could outrun him, so he stood his ground, his fists clenched. He had no idea how, but he was going to save his brother. 

But before the Troll could reach him, a figure sprang from the trees Elladan had just been hiding behind, and landed on its shoulders. He roared, dropping Elrohir in a heap on the ground and grabbing at his neck to shake the thing off. 

Elladan sprinted to his twin, who was clutching at his leg and whimpering. Metal glinted from the figure’s sword, which found itself buried in the Troll’s flesh. He roared, stumbling, and Elladan held his brother close and buried his face in his shoulder so he wouldn’t have to watch. 

A loud _thud_ signified the Troll hitting the ground, and soon there was a hand on Elladan’s shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

He looked up to see Medlin, the guard that they had snuck away from earlier that day. “I’m not, but I think Elrohir broke his leg.”

The giant guard picked up Elrohir, who let out a soft whimper and clutched at Medlin’s arm. “It’s alright,” he said. “I’m going to get you home, and your father will be able to heal you, okay?” He motioned for Elladan to follow. 

They walked back to Imladris in silence.

 _I’m sorry,_ Elrohir’s voice was quiet in his mind. _I was so scared, I couldn’t make myself disappear._

 _It’s alright,_ Elladan said. _I couldn’t hold it for very long, either._

He heard Elrohir sniffle. _I don’t want to be a coward._

 _You’re_ not _a coward,_ he said firmly. _It’s okay to be scared. Glorfindel says that fighting without fear is foolishness, not bravery._

He was quiet after that, but Elladan could tell that his brother at least felt a little better. 

After healing Elrohir’s leg, still very stiff and wrapped in bandages, Elrond gave them a very stern look. “What were you thinking, going out on your own?”

They looked down sheepishly. “There was a weakness in the perimeter,” Elrohir said. “We were… checking it out.”

His eyebrow crept higher. “And ended up all the way in the Trollshaws?”

“We wanted to be thorough,” Elladan said. “Turns out, there are, um, trolls. In the Trollshaws.” Elrohir nodded in agreement. 

Celebrían covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “Oh, they are _so_ your sons.”

Elrond sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The next time you decide to test the security, _please_ take one of the guards with you.”


	3. Rule #3: Keep the Eldritch Horrors to a Minimum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all i can say is don’t think about the timeline too much

Celebrían walked into the Solar to find the air swirling around, picking up papers and flinging them across the room, and generally destroying the calm atmosphere that Imladris was known for. 

She kept her hair from blowing in her face with one hand and made her way to the center of the whirlwind, where Arwen sat with her eyes shut tight and her tongue stuck out in concentration. 

“Darling,” Celebrían had to raise her voice to be heard, “perhaps we shouldn’t do this inside?”

The winds died down, and Arwen looked up innocently. “Mithrandir said that it’s easier to do inside because there’s less… extra factors?”

“ _Why_ is Mithrandir teaching you how to create whirlwinds?”

“Because fireworks are too dangerous.”

Celebrían sighed. She was sure the wizard meant well, but she had heard the horror stories of the havoc her husband and his brother had wreaked while experimenting with _their_ powers as children, and she hoped, perhaps selfishly, that Arwen would turn out to be more like her older brothers and less… magically destructive. 

Valar knew the regular destruction the twins got up to kept them on their toes enough. 

She held Arwen’s hand as they walked down the stairs.

Elrond looked at her strangely when she walked in the main room. “What was going on upstairs? I heard a noise.”

Arwen giggled. “I can make winds like you do, _ada_!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Can you? Let’s see it, then.”

She closed her eyes, and the air in the room began to move faster, whipping their hair around their faces. A moment later, it began slowing down gradually to a stop. 

Elrond ruffled her hair and smiled. “Very impressive, little one! Where did you learn to do that?”

Arwen grinned proudly. “Mithrandir! Did you know he’s a—” she clapped both hands over her mouth. “I’m not supposed to say.”

Elrond and Celebrían exchanged a glance. “What, that he’s a Maia?” Elrond said. Arwen nodded solemnly. “We know. I was able to sense it, too.” He sat down on the floor next to her. “You can talk about it with us, but to most people it is a secret.”

“Okay.”

Tiny footfalls signaled the approach of the _adan_ child that was visiting. He was much younger than Arwen, but already much taller than her. 

Arwen giggled when he walked in, and the sound seemed to come from everywhere at once. The boy seemed frightened, and Arwen’s eyes turned black as she hissed, her teeth sharpening as the very air seemed to darken. 

He ran away crying.

Elrond looked appalled. “Why did you have to scare him away? His father is a very important Gondorian diplomat, and they’re here to discuss…” he trailed off as he realized Arwen wasn’t listening. 

She shrugged. “His name is Túrin. I don’t like him.”

“Why don’t you like him?” Celebrían asked, hoping that it wouldn’t only be because of his unfortunate name. 

“I got my hair stuck in a tree and he teased me. So I turned into a bird and pecked him.”

Elrond raised an eyebrow in disappointment, but his lips were pursed with suppressed laughter. “The most important part of diplomacy is being nice to people that you don’t like.”

She looked at him, unconvinced. “I am never going to be a diplomat.”


	4. Rule #4: Use the Practice Blades When You Spar (do I really have to say this?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk anything about sword fighting so don’t attack me pls  
> glorfindel is a dramatic bitch  
> medlin is big n strong n baby.  
> moicanerdo means (roughly) “gentle giant”. it’s medlin’s mother name

Glorfindel readjusted his grip on his sword and stared straight ahead. Medlin was just shy of an inch shorter than he was, but his shoulders were broader. His face was stone, and Glorfindel remembered how deadly he had been in battle. 

He flashed a brilliant grin at the twins, who had just finished collecting bets. He would win. There was no doubt about it. “Think you can keep up, kid?”

Medlin raised an eyebrow. “Kid? I’m pretty sure I’ve been alive longer than you have. Some of us actually survived the First Age, you know.”

A gasp went up from the onlookers, and Glorfindel and Medlin began circling each other. “I’m sorry,” Glorfindel began, “how many Balrogs have you killed?” He resisted the urge to reach behind him and ensure that his hair was secured. 

Medlin smirked. “The past means nothing here, Laurefindil. Only the present.”

“Wise words, Moicanerdo. There won’t be any hard feelings, right?”

“Of course not, my lord.”

Glorfindel struck. 

Medlin was quick; he defended with ease, matching Glorfindel’s power with his own raw strength. Their blades crossed with a sharp _clang_. He tried to force Medlin backwards, but the other _ellon_ didn’t budge. 

They spun away from each other, exchanging a few more blows. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Glorfindel could hear people cheering them on, but his gaze was focused on his opponent. 

He saw a weakness and immediately acted, getting inside Medlin’s defenses and smacking him on the ribs with the flat of his sword. It was meant to be light, but Medlin doubled over, and Glorfindel paused. 

In his moment of hesitation, Medlin feinted. Glorfindel tried to dodge, but he fell right into Medlin’s trap. A sharp pain flared through his side, and he felt hot liquid soaking his newly ripped tunic. 

When Glorfindel went back on the offensive, Medlin stepped back a few feet. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he was cut off as he had to raise his blade to block Glorfindel’s strike. “You’re bleeding— _ngh_ —kind of a lot, are you sure you want to—”

“I’ve been stabbed before,” said Glorfindel, refusing to allow himself to slow down. 

“I wasn’t aware that one could build up an immunity to stab wounds. Is that another power the Valar granted you?”

Glorfindel growled. “I’m not _losing to you_ just because you _stabbed me_ , Moicanerdo.” He lunged, catching Medlin’s blade at the crossguard. He threw his weight down, and Medlin had to sink to one knee to prevent Glorfindel from slicing him in half. 

He twisted, and Medlin dropped his weapon, Glorfindel’s swordpoint an inch from his heart. “I yield.”

“You fucking stabbed me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It wasn’t on purpose. You moved right into my sword.”

Glorfindel laughed, then winced as another wave of pain rolled through him. “Told you I would win.”

“Well, you have killed more Balrogs than I have.”

A new voice came from behind them. “ _I_ am going to kill both of you, Balrog slayer or not.”

“We have practice blades for a reason, you know,” Elrond said calmly as he bandaged Glorfindel’s side. “And I may not be a great military leader, but is it really advisable to have you and your warriors butcher each other?”

“It was friendly sparring!” Glorfindel protested. “Medlin bet the twins that he could beat me, and he lost.” He left out that most of the valley’s residents had bet on the outcome of the fight as well. 

“And yet he is unscathed.”

“Nah, he’ll have some nasty bruises tomorrow.”

Elrond raised an eyebrow, and Glorfindel shivered. Elrond may not be a warrior, but he was _not_ someone to be trifled with. “You are going to rest for the next few days. No more ‘friendly sparring’.”

Glorfindel sighed, but nodded. This certainly didn’t feel like a victory. 

Medlin smiled at him sheepishly the next day. “How are you feeling?”

Glorfindel did his best to look wounded. “No blade could ever pain me as much as the sting of your betrayal, my friend.”

He chuckled. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

“You get to train Elladan and Elrohir this week.”

Medlin groaned. “How am I supposed to teach them? I’m pretty sure the two of them together could take even you.”

“Well, I can’t do anything for the next few days, and that is your fault,” said Glorfindel. He was incredibly proud of the twins; they had made so much progress in the past few centuries. He hoped that they would never need to be true warriors, but he knew it was false hope.


	5. Rule #5: Do Not Mess With Glorfindel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally written for akirakurosawa on tumblr

The twins ran. 

Their footsteps pounded against the hard ground, until the only thing they could hear was the pounding of their hearts and the blood rushing in their ears. 

Elrohir skidded almost to a stop before rounding a corner. “This way!” he hissed in a whisper. 

Elladan darted after him. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Away from here!”

They passed small buildings and trees. Sweat stung Elladan’s eyes as he ran to keep up with his brother, ran to get further and further from what he knew would be chasing them. 

Elrohir grabbed his arm to stop them, panting in front of a brick wall with a ladder leaning against it. “Up here!” 

Elrohir went up first, nimbly scaling the ladder. He crouched down as soon as he reached the top, his eyes scanning to make sure they hadn’t been seen. 

Elladan leaned down beside him, catching his breath. “How long do you think it’ll be before—?”

A roar rang out through the streets. 

“Not long,” Elrohir quipped. “Hurry.”

They sprinted atop the roof, but it wasn’t long before Elrohir saw what he was looking for. 

“Trapdoor.” He dropped down; he had opened the puzzle lock some hours before. His brother followed, and Elrohir closed the top and reset the lock. 

They were now in a dark tunnel, slowly sloping down. They didn’t stop running, but slowed their pace as they continued down the path. 

“Do you think we’ve lost him?” Elladan’s voice echoed, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. 

Elrohir shook his head nervously. “I don’t know. Let’s not count on it. Be ready, just in case.”

They came to the end of the passage, marked by another ladder up to a trapdoor that would put them close by the river. Elrohir threw it open and clambered out, his brother close behind. 

They collapsed together outside, completely out of breath. “We made it,” Elladan breathed. “We’re safe.”

A low growl from behind them suggested otherwise. 

Elladan sprang to his feet, whirling around and placing himself between his brother and the huge hulking figure, dripping wet and radiating anger. 

“Elrohir, run,” he said. “I’ll hold him off. Get out of here.”

“No, I can’t leave you!”

“Go!” He shoved Elrohir away, bracing himself for a fight. He had no weapons, nothing to defend himself. 

The breath was knocked out of him as he was slammed to the ground, pinned by an enormous golden elf. 

“You little shit,” Glorfindel growled in his ear before throwing Elladan over his shoulder. He quickly caught up to the other twin, seizing him around the waist. 

They struggled, but to no avail. Glorfindel practically sauntered to the riverside and dumped them both in the water.

“Don’t think that this is the end of this!” he cried when the twins resurfaced, sputtering and wiping river water out of their eyes. The golden elf was still soaked and shivering from their devilish endeavors, but he grinned as he took his revenge. “I’m coming back after you two. When you least expect it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m not sure exactly what they did, but it was probably the bucket of water on the door thing or something stupid like that hfjfjdks


End file.
